Short Chiding Poems

bare birch tree swaying
blizzard blows away branches ~
chiding chickadee


5th December 2022

For Tania Kitchin's "Winter Nature Themed Haiku" contest...

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Tick tock tick tock 
All I hear’s that bloody clock
Chiding me for wasting time
Is it really such a crime
To put your feet up when you’re done
Rest, relax and have some fun
It winds me up that awful sound
So now, I leave the clock unwound...

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Tiny bell on smooth mirror
Reflective and pensive
Adorable tinkling sound
She strives to hear

Blurry clock face
Distorted and daunting
Losing sight of it quickly
Age takes its toll

Arthritic knees
Chiding her daily
Smell of vanilla
Reminds her of her youth...

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Pristine

an elegant word
somehow perhaps
out of reach..

at some time 
or many times
perhaps this evening
we need experience 
ourselves as Pristine..
we lay aside
all our self-doubt
opinions of others
our successes
religion's chiding 
and inquire..what
remains..?
then to recognize 
our Pristine within
which never dies 
remains......

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the kid looked curiously at grandpa ~ who was struggling down the stairs 

he turned to the kid saying ~ one day you’ll be just like me so don’t stare

kid said i might be lucky and die young ~ besides since when do you care

mum was aghast chiding the kid ~ say your sorry that comment’s not fair 

i’m sorry gramps ~ but dad said we must come round to inherit our share

By
David Kavanagh...

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The form is not in the list. This form is  Ae Freislighe 


Calliope tutelage
“There be tales from times not told,
brought back through your lineage,
dreams dredged from dark days of old”

Animate lost Anima
place a new thinking cap on
hang up hero’s panama
parlay phrases till past dawn

Here sit I, laptop clicking
chickens chiding privilege
wrapped in writing, clock ticking
Calliope tutelage....

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Tumultuous tale told and taught throughout time
Chiding cheers and chants and church bells chime
Parishioners of pastors who've past their prime
Claims of cunning conquers and cryptic crime
Daunt deeds to deviants dying for a nickel and dime
Grieve for the gains gone-by who grovel in grime
Sent forth by a sovereign who sought sublime
Messengers now muted no more than mime
Rue the revered who suit to rewrite the rhyme 
Cast off couriers contrary to who create the crime...

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The hygienist cleaned my teeth
And gave a little lecture.
"Your flossing isn't good enough;"
It wasn't just conjecture.

I'm sure that it was obvious
My efforts were exquisite
In just the week or two before
My 6-month dental visit.

I brush each morning and each night
But more than that's annoying.
Unless a poppy seed is stuck,
No floss I'll be employing.

So twice a year I suck it up 
And listen to her chiding.
At least a saddle for her very
High horse I'm providing....

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